


Every Tuesday Afternoon

by flipflop_diva



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), BAMF Carol Danvers, F/F, Five-Year Gap, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Natasha Romanov Feels, POV Natasha Romanov, Training, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: It was one of the only times Natasha looked forward to lately. On Tuesday afternoons, not long after lunch, there would come a knock on the door (even though Natasha always left it unlocked for those couple of hours), and when she went to the front door, there would be Carol, standing on the doorstep, her hair normally windswept, almost always dressed in her uniform, most likely just back from space.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60
Collections: Marvel Femslash Exchange 2020





	Every Tuesday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flowerdragon13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerdragon13/gifts).



It was one of the only times Natasha looked forward to lately. On Tuesday afternoons, not long after lunch, there would come a knock on the door (even though Natasha always left it unlocked for those couple of hours), and when she went to the front door, there would be Carol, standing on the doorstep, her hair normally windswept, almost always dressed in her uniform, most likely just back from space.

They would take a few minutes to greet each other, to catch up on anything that needed catching up on — missions they had been working on, news they might have heard — but most days that didn’t take very long. It sometimes seemed like when Thanos snapped away half the universe, he even snapped away the desire of people to be evil. Or maybe he just snapped away the evil people.

Natasha wasn’t sure, and she also knew she shouldn’t wish it were different, but it was hard watching the clock go round and the days tick by, without even an evil villain to focus on. 

But on Tuesdays, Carol would arrive, and after the small talk was done, they would make their way to the gym. Natasha was always already dressed in her black tank top and yoga pants, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her widow’s bites on her wrists. Carol would disappear into a bathroom and come back looking nothing like the woman on the doorstep — she’d have on a t-shirt and sweats and her hair was also pulled back, and half the time, Natasha couldn’t stop looking at her.

Or at least she couldn’t stop looking at her until Carol would punch her in the face or knock her legs out from under her or pin her to the mat, and then Natasha was entirely in. They would spar for a couple hours, until Natasha at least was out of breath and exhausted. She wasn’t sure anything ever exhausted Carol, but Carol would flop down beside her on the mat and hand her a bottle of water and then they would talk — sometimes about the places Carol had seen or sometimes about life with the Avengers or something even something one of them saw on television — but for a little while, Natasha would feel like maybe she was going to be okay.

Most Tuesdays, Carol stayed for dinner, and they would cook it side-by-side, laughing and chatting like they were normal people with normal friendships, and then they would sit together at the table and eat. Sometimes Carol would stay longer and they’d curl up on the couch to watch a movie or go sit out on the roof and look at the stars, but almost always when Carol would leave, Natasha would tell her thank you and Carol would say she had a nice time, and then Natasha would watch her shoot off into the night sky.

She would go to bed every Tuesday with a small smile on her face, and she would lay in her bed and think about Carol. About how she looked and how she smelled and about how she felt under her hands when they sparred. Sometimes she would think about how her lips would taste or how it would feel with Carol’s head between her legs, but then she would push that thought away in a hurry and try not to cry as she remembered she was alone like she almost always was and her life and Carol’s life could never intertwine that way.

This Tuesday, though, was turning out to be slightly different. Lunch had come and gone a couple hours ago, and there was still no sign of Carol.

Natasha had forced herself to go to her office, to look through reports of mysterious occurrences around the world, to see if there was anything she should be looking into, but it was hard to concentrate. The compound seemed quieter than normal, emptier, every tap of her fingers on her laptop louder than it should be.

She stared at her phone off and on to make sure it was working. She even checked the monitors for the outside to make sure none of the security systems had been turned off. But everything was fine. Carol just wasn’t here.

Natasha kept waiting, but the hours ticked by. She tried to tell herself she didn’t care, that it was nothing. She tried to tell herself that it was inevitable that Carol would get bored and want to stay away. Everyone else had disappeared long ago, so why shouldn’t Carol? 

But Natasha couldn’t focus on anything else. She could train, but she didn’t feel like it. She could make the pasta with the ingredients she had bought, but food didn’t sound appealing. Instead, she turned off all the lights and let herself crawl into bed hours early, telling herself she was okay and it didn’t matter and she was used to being alone so why should this be any harder than any other day?

\--

Natasha awoke to the sound of breathing. 

Before she had even consciously realized what was happening, she yanked the gun out from under her pillow and had it pointed at the person’s forehead who was now in front of her.

“It’s me, Nat.”

Natasha dropped the gun with a gasp, letting it fall to the carpeted floor. She sank back down on the bed, her heart pounding, trying to focus in the dark of her room.

“You’re late,” she finally managed.

The silhouette that was Carol shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Something happened. Another world on the brink … they needed my help.”

“You could have sent a message.” Natasha grimaced to herself even as the words escaped her; she sounded like a petulant child.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Natasha blinked again. Now that her eyes were adjusting to the dark, she could see Carol better, and she realized with a start that Carol wasn’t wearing her uniform. In fact, she was dressed in the t-shirt and sweats she always wore when they sparred.

Natasha tugged the blankets up slightly, suddenly conscious that she was only wearing a tank top and underwear.

“What time is it?” she asked, still trying to get her bearings a little. “Is it too late to spar?”

“Yes,” Carol said. She motioned to the bed, and Natasha nodded. Carol sat down beside her. Natasha could feel the heat from Carol’s body even though they were still a few inches apart. “But I didn’t come here in the middle of the night to spar.”

Carol turned to look at her directly. She could feel Carol’s eyes boring into hers.

Natasha flushed under her gaze, and she was glad Carol couldn’t see her that clearly. “What did you come here for?” she said, because she was not going to be the type of person who just assumed something because she wanted it to be true.

But Carol lifted a hand and threaded her fingers through Natasha’s curls. Her palm was warm against Natasha’s cheek.

“I think you know,” she said, and her voice was husky. Natasha could feel her breathe against her face.

“Are you sure?” Natasha whispered. 

“I am,” Carol said. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” 

Natasha wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in her throat.

“Yes?” Carol repeated, and at Natasha’s nod, she leaned forward.

Kissing Carol was nothing like Natasha had imagined but everything she hadn’t known she wanted. It almost felt like an electric current went through her body at the touch of Carol’s lips, and she wondered for a second if Carol was using some of her powers on her.

Carol kept kissing her, gentle pecks intermixed with longer, more intense bouts, and Natasha finally wrapped her arms around Carol, tangling her hand in Carol’s hair to get her to come closer.

Carol pushed her gently, and Natasha found herself lying back on her pillows, Carol beside her, and then Carol’s hand was on her belly, sliding up and under her tank top, tenderly kneading her breast.

Natasha gasped into Carol’s mouth as Carol’s fingers pinched her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. 

Natasha reached for the hem of Carol’s shirt, wanting to return the favor, but Carol’s other hand captured Natasha’s wrists and moved them above her head, murmuring a “No” against Natasha’s lips as she did so.

Shifting so she could talk, her hand still stroking Natasha’s breast, Carol smiled down at her. “I’m sorry I was late,” she said. “Let me make it up to you.”

And then she was leaning forward again, kissing her once more, and Natasha was lost in sensation. Carol’s hand disappeared from Natasha’s breast and headed south, dipping under the hem of Natasha’s underwear and stroking her gently between her legs.

“I’m sorry I didn’t message you,” Carol whispered to her between kisses, her fingers stroking her harder. “I think about you all the time.”

Natasha whimpered into her kiss. “Do you?” she finally managed to pant. 

“I do.” Carol’s fingers moved faster, her thumb finding Natasha’s clit. Natasha jerked under her touch, her hips trying to push her body harder into Carol’s hand.

“Maybe you can make up for being late right now.”

She felt one of Carol’s fingers slide inside her, and her hips jerked again.

“Oh, I plan to,” Carol said, and Natasha saw a smirk cross Carol’s face.

Carol’s hand began to move faster, almost too fast, and Natasha stared up at her, words on the tip of her tongue — wanting to tell Carol she missed her when she was gone, wanting to tell her how much she enjoyed their time together — but none of it mattered because Carol’s thumbnail was scraping across Natasha’s clit and her fingers were buried inside her and every thought Natasha had disappeared along with her vision as her body exploded in pleasure. Over and over and over again. 

There would be time for talking later.


End file.
